It's Not Always Fun and Games
by PaolaAdara
Summary: The first time they are told apart, it scares them...because no one has done it before. [Part Two uploaded] [Complete]
1. Knowing Which Way the Wind Blows

Title: It's Not Always Fun and Games (1 of 2)

Author: Paola

Disclaimer: _It's Not Always Fun and Games _is based on characters and situations that belong to Bisco Hatori (and other production affiliates that have the right of ownership). No money is being made, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Considerations: Similarities to other stories/events/passages are purely coincidental unless otherwise cited, and beliefs and points of view found in the story do not necessarily reflect those of the author's.

_**Knowing Which Way the Wind Blows**_

The gates were now looking very small from the great distance, and they knew that a few more steps in their direction and the gates would completely disappear. It was disconcerting, in a way, because for a long time, _that_ world was all they knew, was all they were familiar and comfortable with. In _that _world, they were in control, they made the rules, they set the pace, they withheld invitations and refused those who wanted to pry. It was _safe_ and it was _theirs_. It warded people off with a flag that bore twin hand prints on white fabric, one of pink and one of blue, and a lock made of stainless metal and the hardest alloy. And the greatest and most impenetrable defenses were hands intertwined and held tight. _Those_ separated them from the others, and they were fine.

Until a certain unstoppable force had plowed right through with a vision of the _outside_ that seemed full of smiles, and sparkles, and optimism that almost blinded them.

At first, they had been indifferent, asking of him something that they had asked of everybody else. He wanted a peek — he had to tell them apart. It was very simple, in essence, because no two of anything was ever the same, and for a while, they had foolishly thought that he might have a chance…because he didn't seem to want to give up no matter how many wrong answers he had already given. Even when they had shot him the barb about his mother, he continued to play their game.

Then they had grown interested because he was funny, he was hilarious, he talked like an old-fashioned lord who was just begging to be laughed at. So they laughed and called him _Dono_.

After a while though, they had grown bored of his incessant ways, and they began to resent him because he was just like everybody else. He couldn't tell them apart. He couldn't guess right at the "Which one is Hikaru-kun" game, and his pointing at the right twin was but a mere happenstance that might never be repeated. He couldn't differentiate one from the other with re-assuring certainty. And when he'd said that he couldn't tell them apart, they had automatically replied that it was all well because they _didn't need to be told apart anyway_. But what he had informed them next stole the quick retorts from their mouths. He had told them that they were contradictory in and by themselves — walking contradictions because they kept on saying that they didn't really want to be differentiated from each other, but every time someone failed, their smiles grew just a little bit too tight, their laughter just a little bit too strained.

They had gone home that day struck by his words, by the truth he had stumbled upon, and, for once, they thought he didn't belong to the boring things that needed to be discarded right away. That same night, they had talked about his proposition, and before going to bed, hands held tightly between them, they had let identical curious smirks play on their faces. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad to partake in his outlandish idea.

When they stepped into the high school grounds the following school year, they opened the doors to the Third Music Room, and there they witnessed the magic that he weaved, that he made real. All his flowery words and exuberant gestures were right at home in the setting he had told them about, but despite it being more closely associated with his personality, he had managed to make them feel welcome, that they belonged, and not long after, he had made it so that each personality was carved and recognized, and each situation screamed those different characters. He wasn't selfish; he shared, and each of them had a place in his little magical tent.

The twins had been invited out of the _world of us_, and they had taken a tentative step towards him. Because of him, they had gained _friends_: there was the low-blood-pressure Shadow King, the cute martial artist, the "wild" kendoist, and, of course, he — their _Dono_, the Host Club King himself.

They could honestly say that every experience was new for them. Where once Hikaru and Kaoru had played only with each other, now Hikaru and Kaoru played with Kyoya-sempai, Honey-sempai, Mori-sempai, and _Dono_. Where once Hikaru and Kaoru had only known each other, now Hikaru and Kaoru knew more people than they would care to count.

Then _she_ entered their little rich world, stepped inside the Third Music Room, became a host despite her gender, became their friend, and, eventually, turned out to be the first person to successfully tell them apart. For her, Hikaru wasn't Kaoru. For her, they weren't interchangeable because they were_ similar but not the same_. And there was no misleading her. There was no deceiving her. She _knew_ when they were pretending to be the other, and the first time she voiced her thoughts, it had scared them. It had scared them because no one had done it before. It had scared them because, even when they had really wanted for someone to _know_ which was which, the idea that no one could tell them apart had lulled them into a false sense of security that neither would ever be left behind…left behind for anything else. Of course, in true playful Hitachiin fashion, they had hidden the fear behind a game, and everyone — even her — hadn't seen that, somehow, her perceptiveness had truly shaken them.

_If you're still running towards me in that situation, I guess things are still fine._

Hikaru, once shaken, usually reacted loudly, physically, but once placated, he'd pout at first then forget. But Kaoru…Kaoru was calm. He was collected, and he reacted violently only when Hikaru was around…because it was _normal_ and easy to be the same…to act and feel the same. That difference between the two almost sufficiently explained why it was Kaoru who dwelt on the subtle changes that had started taking place…why it was the younger brother who took things in stride and, when taken away from his twin, acted more mature. It was why it was Kaoru who noticed that they had started to stray farther from the gates without leaving bread crumbs to follow later when they had to return. It was why it was Kaoru who wondered why they kept on walking away from the gates even when there were no assurances that they would be able to go back.

_But, when Hikaru…notices that he wants to take another step forward…when that happens…what will I do?_

It was almost natural that the change of pace was first noticed by Kaoru, the younger twin, and it was natural, too, that even though he wouldn't take a step back, he was still apprehensive about taking steps forward; after all, there would always be a chance that he might get left behind now that they weren't in the safety of their own world. But despite the trepidation he felt, he still followed the fingers that beckoned because Hikaru was following them and was holding his hand.

During times like this, when he was uncertain about something, he would curl his fingers tighter around his brother's hand, and the other twin would squeeze back because they were in this together.

_If he never showed up, we would have been left behind in this world._

But even when it was Kaoru who noted the differences first, Hikaru wasn't that far behind. In some way or another, Hikaru would always catch up with Kaoru's metaphors because the former matched the latter's allegories with his own hard observations, and in that, they were balanced. They both noticed the same things even when they saw them a bit differently, and both knew that the other was not pausing in their pace, though occasionally looking over his shoulder to see how far they had gone.

Once upon a time, Hikaru and Kaoru had snitched a wide strip of whitish silk from their mother's workroom. And later on, they had been found in their room, hands stained with paint, cheeks smeared with color, and faces glowing with wide, accomplished grins as they stared proudly at their creation: There on the floor in front of them was the silk cloth, flaunting two identical handprints in pink and blue with _Hikaoru_ finger-painted below. Their mother had smiled at them and had asked if they wanted her to embroider their names on either side. Hikaru and Kaoru had nodded enthusiastically before sprinting off towards the bathroom to wash up.

That flag was what swayed proudly in the breeze in their own little world, telling people that in the _world of us_, it wasn't a democracy, but a dictatorship that only granted rights to Hikaru and Kaoru and only allowed access to those it granted rights to. But that world had its lock opened by a key made of gold and red diamonds that shifted to whatever shape to open whatever lock, and that key was owned by the person that had somehow enticed them into stepping out of their world to do a little exploring, coaxing them with elegant and nimble fingers until they were completely lured out, and taught, and made to witness things that they had missed because the laws in the _world of us_ were too strict to allow _outsiders_ to get in.

Hikaru and Kaoru had begun to accept that there was life outside their world, and they continued to discover new things and continued to be curious of other things, and when the wind had blown away the last cherry blossom, they opened the doors of their mansion to embrace the summer heat that was forthcoming. When they took another step forward, they looked over their shoulders, and there was their world, the gates wide open, just like how they had left it, but when they squinted, they saw that their flag was flying carelessly in the wind at half mast, something that had changed without them knowing. And then they felt it; a part of them was mourning the loss of a familiar security that had taken care of them for how long, but even then, another part of them wished to continue forward, the desire to take freedom overriding the twinge of discomfort at leaving something behind.

When _Dono _waved them over to hurry up, Hikaru and Kaoru willingly followed, and with that last step they took, the _world of us_ vanished from view. As one — for they were one despite their differences — they said their goodbye to that which had cosseted them for the longest time, and they knew that their valediction was as permanent as the sun that beat down on them. They weren't going back. It was too late for that. And even when a semblance of longing touched their souls, they wouldn't let that sadden them and make them regret their decision.

People often say that saying goodbye is one of the hardest things that anyone could ever have done, but that's _them_, and Hitachiin Hikaru and Hitachiin Kaoru had always looked at things contrarily anyway. As it was, now wasn't any different. So when the delayed echoes of their goodbye reverberated within them, they decided that it was worth it, that leaving the _world of us_ was worth it and not at all very regrettable…

…because that goodbye had only meant that they were saying hello to something new.

_-fin-_

A/N:

I entered this in MediaMiner's 2007 Summer Mini-fiction Contest. It didn't place any, but it's a "judge's choice", Dumas' to be specific. It's my first time ever joining a writing contest, and I think I did pretty well for my story to be one of the judges' choices. That's still cool, right? (Yeah, yeah it is, and I'm still giddy! Lol)


	2. The Other Face of Goodbye

Title: It's Not Always Fun and Games (2 of 2)

Author: Paola

Disclaimer: _It's Not Always Fun and Games _is based on characters and situations that belong to Bisco Hatori (and other production affiliates that have the right of ownership). No money is being made, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Considerations: Similarities to other stories/events/passages are purely coincidental unless otherwise cited, and beliefs and points of view found in the story do not necessarily reflect those of the author's.

Warning: This is the "not-so-happy" version of _Knowing Which Way the Wind Blows_

_**The Other Face of Goodbye**_

They say that no two things are ever the same. This has caught Kaoru's attention because _aren't Hikaru and I the same?_ They wear the same clothes. They eat the same food. They shun the same people. They play with the same toys. So even when he doesn't believe it, he puts the thought in a little box to be stored away and recalled when he remembers to unlock the chest.

He doesn't notice the tiny gap where before there was none, no, he doesn't, not yet.

They say that everyone is unique and different from everybody else. This has caught Kaoru's attention because _aren't Hikaru and I different from others but not from ourselves? _They adore maple syrup, but Honey-sempai adores cakes. They like it loud and noisy, but Mori-sempai probably prefers the relative silence. They love to play pranks, but Kyoya-sempai is too straight-laced for those. They brag and throw tantrums, but Milord poeticizes and sulks. So even when he doesn't believe it, he puts the thought in a little box to be stored away and recalled when he remembers to unlock the chest.

He doesn't notice the negligible difference in rhythm, no, he doesn't, not yet.

They say that, one way or another, even the closest of people will say goodbye to each other. This has caught Kaoru's attention because _aren't Hikaru and I inseparable?_ They say goodbye to their parents when they leave for school, but they don't say goodbye to each other because they attend the same classes. They say goodbye to the Host Club when the late afternoon rolls in, but they don't say goodbye to each other because they live in the same house. They say goodbye to people leaving, but they don't say goodbye to each other because wherever one is, the other would be just close by. So even when he doesn't believe it, he puts the thought in a little box to be stored away and recalled when he remembers to unlock the chest.

He doesn't notice the small unused space between that was a tangle of limbs and cloth before, no, he doesn't, not yet.

They say that everyone takes a different path and makes different choices. This has caught Kaoru's attention because _aren't Hikaru and I "us" and not "everyone else"? _Kyoya-sempai and Milord have different career paths, but he and his brother are both going to take over their mother's fashion empire. Honey-sempai and Mori-sempai are a karate master and kendo master respectively, but he and his brother are one-half of a twin and one-half of a twin respectively. Haruhi prefers her cut-and-dried routine, but he and his brother like the randomicity of pranks and surprises. So even when he doesn't believe it, he puts the thought in a little box to be stored away and recalled when he remembers to unlock the chest.

The slight dissimilarity in wavelength tickles his attention, but he dismisses it because it's trivial — it shouldn't exist; therefore, it _doesn't_.

They say that strength lies in differences, not in similarities. This has caught Kaoru's attention because _aren't Hikaru and I better when we have the same idea, the same…everything? _Honey-sempai and Mori-sempai are so different in many aspects that it makes their bond strong, but he and his brother are so similar that their bond claims to be unbreakable. Kyoya-sempai and Milord are night and day and their friendship is stronger for it, but he and his brother are day and day, night and night, one-half and one-half and their relationship goes beyond the polite bounds of friendship. Haruhi is the opposite of every Host Club member and her connection with the hosts is tactile and true, but he and his brother are mirrors of each other and the strength of their ties is more solid than lovers. So even when he doesn't believe it, he puts the thought in a little box to be stored away and recalled when he remembers to unlock the chest.

Then the tiny gap, the negligible difference in rhythm, the small unused space, the slight dissimilarity in wavelength aren't so tiny — aren't so negligible, aren't so small, aren't so slight — anymore.

They say that nothing in this world is permanent. This has caught Kaoru's attention because, suddenly, he finds himself fumbling with the key to open the chest he has stored away — because what they say is actually true for the first time. Every memory, every belief, rushes out, and imagine his surprise when all those things he once thought were rubbish are now making sense, are now rearing their ugly heads to mock him for his skepticism.

Suddenly, there is this distance that he wants to cross but is held back from doing so.

He and Hikaru are not so similar as he once believed, and as he watches while Hikaru runs to a different direction, he begins to resent the ignorance that once made their world function because it failed to prepare him for this. There are now too many people clamoring to enter their world, and while he remains trying to push them away, Hikaru just stands there, a contemplative look on his face, until he decides to take a step back and let them enter.

Kaoru has always been the more mature of the two, but now that he faces the possibility of separation, he thinks that he's even more childish for wanting to stop the changes that seem to be fast coming. He tries to close the chest and lock it once again, but what's inside doesn't want to be subdued and fights to get out like a monster he hasn't learned to defeat.

When Hikaru chases after different dreams, Kaoru is torn. Selfishness dictates that he holds on, that he pulls Hikaru back, keep him to himself, but Kaoru isn't selfish. He loves. He supports. He encourages. And as painful as it is, he prepares himself to let go.

Just as the younger realizes the need to take another step forward, so too must the elder understand the need for it; and just like how the elder acts on the younger's realization — even without consciously doing so — so too must the younger follow and not be a hypocrite of his own making.

Kaoru curses the tiny ache in his chest. He used to think that such a thing was imaginary partly because there'd always been the two of them before, enough to chase any pain away because it was shared by two, but more so because pain is physical. But what he's feeling right now isn't, so why is he experiencing that little twist in his heart?

They are brothers even before born, soul mates against the world, and individuals…once realized…and the realization does come, along with the farewell to something that has provided them comfort, and security, and protection for as long as they could remember. This, this is what scares Kaoru the most. It's not that Hikaru may forget him once they let go of each other's hand — because that's just impossible — it's that there's no chance of going back to what once was when they allow their entwined fingers to separate. What if those who aren't them and the world to which those people belong are too cruel? What if they don't like what awaits them outside of their world?

Once he lets go of Hikaru, there will be no turning back, and it's a thought that frightens him to an extent he never thought it would. But they aren't kids anymore, and it's time to grow up. Peter Pan has lost its grip on them, and the pixie dust doesn't work as effectively as before.

While there are farewells and departures that aren't as bitter, aren't as hard, aren't as sad, there are, too, other faces of goodbye, and as Kaoru acknowledges the distance between himself and his brother, he thinks that this goodbye is that other face, the one that leaves too much pain, too much yearning despite the smile that he puts on every morning.

They say that time heals all wounds. This has caught Kaoru's attention because until now, he finds it hard to forget what he has let go. The _our world _is no more, and a part of Kaoru wishes he held on. Kaoru isn't selfish, but he never thought his saving grace would also be his downfall.

**o-o**

It has taken a long time for him to realize what he has left behind, but now that he does, Hikaru misses their own little world, and when he turns to his side, there is no Kaoru sleeping beside him. He curses their separate bedrooms and their separate lives even though he knows it's for the best to move on.

Hikaru tries to fall asleep, but sleep is just too far away, and right now, there is no Kaoru to soothe his frazzled psyche, but just as he sits up on his bed, the door cracks open, and a familiar presence makes itself known.

Kaoru helps him ease back onto the bed, holds him until his eyelids are mercifully heavy, and the name of the younger twin slips out of his mouth in a silent plea. Kaoru just smiles that tiny smile, says his goodnight, then extricates himself from Hikaru.

Hikaru has never hated anything that has ever come out of Kaoru's mouth as much as he hates the word that Kaoru is now uttering…

_Goodnight._

…because it's just another way of saying goodbye.

_-fin-_

Citation/s:

"Strength lies in differences, not in similarities." – Stephen Covey


End file.
